A Naked Twist In My Story
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: She stopped looking both ways before she crossed the street. She stopped wearing her seat belt in the car. She stopped counting the pills before she took them. She wasn't trying to kill herself, but she did stop caring whether she lived or not. - Post-Avengers AU. Loki/OC -
1. Chapter 1

_I promised a darker Loki fic and I have delivered. It took a lot of prioritizing to get this one out so please, no harshness on the lateness. I have been busy with finishing my Walking Dead stories and I have been obsessing over my Harry Potter fic Abberation. Oh and my other distraction has been FuckinPoind3xter and her Loki fic She Has Nightmares. If you like dark things, it's right up your alley._

**Inspiration (s):** _The Pretty Reckless, Taylor Momsen, Nickelback sleeze and my own sick and twisted fantasies._

**Warning (s):** _This is sort of how Cherokee Rose was supposed to go beforr I got swept up in the fic Saving Grace and went all cliche and cheesey. _

* * *

**_An old Cherokee told his grandson:_**

**_"My son, there's a battle between_**_two wolves __**inside us all.**_

_**One is EVIL.**_

_Its anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies and ego._

**_The other is GOOD._**

_its joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness and truth._

**_The Boy thought about it and asked: _**

_"Grandfather, which wolf wins?"_

**_The Old Man quietly replied:_**

_"The one you __**feed**__."_

* * *

Dimitri stopped caring after New York.

After she was left in the devestation, Dimitri didn't care about many things anymore.

It was like something inside of her broke. Something snapped and she had no way to repair it. She couldn't do what she loved anymore. Dance, sing, play violin - all taken away from her. Anger is dangerous; it came after the hope. Hope, in its own right, was far more dangerous than the anger ever could dream to be. She hoped and prayed, that the doctor would say the bones were fine. She hoped and prayed, that the scratch in her voice would go away. She hoped and prayed, the bruising around her wrists would fade.

After her hope was worn away, Dimitri began to feel anger. At who, she did not know. She could blame the cause, but that was like trying to catch a minoe in the sea. She could blame the doctors, but they did all they could to put her back together. She could blame her father, another ridiculous lead.

No, there was no one left to blame, so Dimitri had no choice but to swallow the anger and let it eat at her until she was sure there was nothing left to repair.

* * *

_Next update will be Saturday. 5/16/14_


	2. Chapter 2

_I got a review a couple hours after I posted just the first chapter Cx thank you so much to the guest that reviewed, I hope you're still reading and will continue to read this story. Just and introduction to my character, Dimitri, so please be patient. Loki may make an appearance at the end of this chapter. Most likely you will have to wait for the next chapter._

_**Song: **__Black Balloon, Goo Goo Dolls. Look After You, The Fray. Love Me, JJ Heller – this song will play a big part of this story, so it will be labeled in each chapter._

* * *

"She's a freak."

"She's just confused."

"Do you those _things _on her, what would the ladies say?"

"Who cares what they say! You two are supposed to be trusted family friends and you are acting like you don't know us. Like we're just another family that moved in because they were new money!"

She listened to them prattle on, her fingers tightening in the sheets around her hips. "She won't be accepted into Faded Pomp I'm afraid," the familiar voice of her mother's 'friend', Susan came from the other room.

"What about Roosevelt Academy? They have to accept her."

"They aren't the best school, nothing like Faded Pomp. And once they get a look at those things she will be shunned from any social events. You will all drop down the social ladder. Sorry sweet heart."

Dimitri glared at the cracked door, her throat clogged on the gauze wrapped too tightly by the nurse that came by this morning. Why wouldn't they listen to her mother? She was confused, that was true. Why had this happened to her? Why had something like this happened to her, of all people? Social life: gone. Chances at finding a good bo: gone. She was left in her small, but luxurious, homestead in Georgetown, Washington. Sure, she had butlers. Sure, she had her violin and all the other things she could ever want but she would never have any other life but this now.

Just because they thought she was a freak.

"You two are talking nonsense," her mother exclaimed, her heels clicking against the linoleum of the kitchen floor. "You act as though you do not know her! This is my daughter, it's just Dimitri. So what, she looks a little di-"

"A little different," Janine scoffed, the tap of her nails against the side of a coffee mug loud even from where Dimitri lay in her temporary bed on the first floor of their home. "She looks fowl."

"We warned you and yours about taking a trip to New York."

"Albert had business," Dimitri could see her mother now, scratching the back of her neck and looking sheepish. "But it does not matter, how were we supposed to know something like _that_ would happen?"

"It is New York," Susan tsked. "Told you and him, but oh no you just had to go up there and socialize. Should have just stayed in the hotel."

"Alright the both of you, I want you out of my house."

"Now that is just rude," Susan scolded again.

"Rude?! You dare call _me_ rude?! You just insulted my daughter because of something that was not under her control and you want to call _me_ rude," her mother's laughter sounded twisted, strained. "Get the hell out of here, I don't care what you tell everyone. Just _get out of my house_."

And they did, leaving the house in an eerie silence. Dimitri didn't even hear her mother's breath, her familiar heels clicking against the floor, the mutter of someone outside on the sidewalk, the buzz of television. There was nothing but silence. And Dimitri hated it. She hated everything right then. She hated her entire life, right down the grout between the tiles, the dust floating in the sun's rays.

Dimitri hated the entire world.

* * *

She stared up at the building looming over her, arms wrapped tightly around the books she kept to her chest and she looked over her shoulder. Her mother was sitting in the car just a few feet behind her and gave her a reassuring wave. Dimitri nodded a little and turned back to the building, hearing her mother pulling away. She felt suffocated, the fresh bandages around her neck felt too tight. Her legs were aching.

This wasn't a good idea.

Roosevelt Academy was a school for gifted children. Meaning rich kids, kids with actual intelligence and kids with amazing athletic abilities. But mom's friends had been right, it was nothing compared to Faded Pomps. That was the school anyone in the surrounding area of D.C. would pay through the nose to get to, even if it meant they had to go without for a couple of months. But Dimitri didn't care about that. She didn't want to go to some fancy school right now, she wanted to go back and hide in her room, she wanted her tutors back in the comfort of her non-judgmental household.

But that was over, she had been out of the public for too long and her mother convinced her to come out. Even while she still hated the world. There was some hope left in there. She had to go to the family doctor this weekend, perhaps he would say her throat was back in the condition in which she left D.C. with.

A loud bell rang through the air and Dimitri jumped, hurrying into the front doors and immediately being knocked back by a flurry of students. There was no dress code here, the teachers and principal thinking of themselves as 'progressive' enough for a non-uniform dress code. Just as long as you weren't half naked, you were ok. Her back connected flatly against the wall behind her and, thankfully, she noticed the office door was close enough for her to dive into.

The woman behind the large circular desk looked up from her computer and smiled a rather warm smile. "Can I help you, sweetheart?"

Dimitri took a moment to catch her breath and then nodded. "Yes ma'am, I'm a new student. Dimitri McClellan?"

The woman nodded and plucked up the file in front of her, standing and opening it. "Come over here hon," she waved the young woman forward and Dimitri followed her instructions, adjusting the bag on her shoulders. "Alright, here we have your class schedule, a key card for the library and you have a special key for the restricted section of the library. It's in the back past the collection of Shakespeare and Hemingway."

Dimitri's brow furrowed as she took the key. "Am I the only one?"

The woman nodded and sat back down. "Yes ma'am. Your mother said you would need access to the particular wing during your time here."

Why would her mother say that? Dimitri didn't question it, she just grabbed her schedule and scurried out of the office, making it to her first class just as the bell rang. Geometry. Dimitri shuffled to the back of the classroom, feeling eyes on her and hearing the whispers but she chose to ignore them for the moment. She would be poked and prodded enough until the bandages were gone, no sense in starting to cry on the first day.

She would have two years to do that.

* * *

_The head of the gurney hit the doors hard, a haggard woman in a sundress keeping a surprising pace as the EMTs hurried towards the reception desk. One of the men broke off as they passed, spitting out information at a rapid pace that the nurse typed up quickly and then she stood and began to speak into a microphone that called through the ER. Martia McClellan wiped at the tears on her face, seeing the blood and mangled body of her daughter lying in that bed and she didn't know what to do. There was nothing she could do, it was all up to the doctors now. They knew what to do and they would…_

_Martia was pulled from her thoughts by a male nurse grabbing a hold of her and pulling her back. Martia looked up at him, eyes wide and glassy. "Let me go!"_

"_I'm sorry ma'am, but you cannot go in there with her."_

"_That's my daughter," Martia struggled in his grip. "Let me go! I have to be in there with her! I have to make sure she's ok!"_

"_I'm sorry ma'am, I can't let you do that. You'll just have to wait in the waiting room with everyone else."_

_He was acting as though that wasn't her daughter in there, possibly dying even under the scalpel. But that didn't matter, the male nurse forced her to sit down with a rather rough grip on her upper arms and after a few moments Martia accepted the fact that all she could do was wait and told him to go away. She balanced her right elbow on the arm rest and cradled her hand in her hands, a few tears leaking onto her cheeks as a headache wrapped around her ears._

_Why was this happening? They had just been…they had just been walking through town, laughing and trying to haggle with a rather cheery vendor when all hell broke loose. Things were falling, people were running…monsters were coming for them. But that wasn't what got her daughter. It wasn't the rubble or any of that. _

_Martia looked up when she heard a familiar voice saying Dimitri's name shakily. "Oh Albert," she stood._

_He looked around and then saw his wife and hurried to her, taking her into his thick arms. She let out a pained sob and collapsed in his arms. They clung to each other in the small corner of the waiting room, away from prying eyes, and then Albert had to ask his wife. He had to know before he continued to grieve without a cause. He pulled back from her ever so gently, keeping her hands between his and he looked his wife in the eyes._

"_Martia…Martia is she…?"_

_She shrugged, looking so distraught it hurt. "I don't know…I don't know, they just wheeled her into surgery. Albert oh God she looked like a rag doll," she collapsed in a puddle of tears again. "All the blood and the cuts, rocks flying everywhere I didn't know what was going on and then I heard her scream and…she was on the ground and I just…everything until we hit the hospital was a blur. I don't know what to do…"_

_Albert took his wife's head and placed it against his chest, as he had done many times in their long marriage. "She will be fine," he muttered into her hair. "Dimitri is a strong child, she will fight through this. She will make it."_

_They sat there, in that waiting room, for what seemed like forever. The clock ticked rather loudly in their ears, the stifled sobs of other mourning people in other rooms and even in the opposite corners of the waiting room. It was all around them, the grief, and Albert didn't know how to fix it. His wife was strong, their daughter was the same way, but now Martia was breaking because of their nearly broken daughter._

_He didn't know what to do._

_Albert didn't know what to do._

_He leaned back then, letting his head rest against the wall as he stared at the fluorescent lights overhead._

* * *

_As the nurses wheeled Dimitri into her temporary room, Martia and Albert were signing papers as fast as possible. The room was silent save for horrid beeps and the hiss of water running in the next room. Martia's eyes flickered over to the cracked door of her daughters room occasionally; she was so close, just in reach. _

_Dimitri was nowhere near awake, but her fingertips were twitching on the bleach whitened sheets, crisp and fresh. She was wrapped from head to toe, her exposed skin brilliant shades of violet and green. Her throat held a thick gauze, her back raised by the bandages tight around her torso and both ankles were in casts. She looked truly horrid. She would not wake for a long time. So she did not notice the way the lights flickered overhead, those above the window going dark and bathing the wall in a dark shadow._

_He stepped from the shadow in a thick black ink, the blackness dripping back into the floor and turning to shadow as the tip of a staff hit the linoleum. He hovered by her bedside, eyes wandering across her battered and damaged body. She was nothing, just a common mortal. _

_To anyone ignorant of the power._

"_Pathetic mortal," he muttered, reaching up and pressing his fingers into the bandages around her throat; the heart monitor picked up, beeping loudly but not enough to warn anyone else in the hospital. "I warned you, not to come near me but your ignorance pushed you forward."_

_He had done so, telling her to keep her pathetic form at bay, but she had been protecting her mother. She had jumped in the way, he was prepared to destroy them both but he sufficed when turning one of his army to ash. He needed his power spread through the lips of humans. It was the only way to assure the fear stroking at their spines because of the destruction he caused. And now, she was a threat._

"_But not until you are able to not control it," he muttered, as though she could hear his thoughts as he had heard hers. "Not until your small body has lost its immunity to the power. You are going to be under constant surveillance. I hope you do not believe you are safe," he breathed in deeply. "Oh the fear on your breath with be so delicious, enough to feed me for days."_

_He reached up and ran his fingers through her blood matted hair, not concerned with the way the heart monitor continued to climb. He wished she was awake, so he could drink in the horror that would be obvious in her eyes. She had the most exquisite look of terror when he struck her briefly. But that had caused his new obsession with her. He would not be able to extract anything until she was at least the human year of seventeen. Until then, she would be something he would follow, something he would keep watch over. No harm could come to her, no human or other entity could have her until he had gotten what he wanted._

_And he would get it._

_He would always get what he wanted._

* * *

_Sorry about the sucky chapter, but it's an introduction that needed to be told. The next chapter will get into the real story so I hope no one brushes this off because of this chapter. _


	3. Chapter 3

_**Warning (s): **__Mentions of female/female sexual advances, drug use and other bad little things._

* * *

She is thrown from the home onto a muddy lawn.

Her body rolls, mocha skin turning black and then she laughs into the mud squishing between her fingers. She heaves, catching her breath, as she balances on her arms before she manages to get to her feet. She stumbles back a few steps, turquoise eyes glittering perfectly against a backdrop of porcelain hair.

She looks evil.

Like a devil.

Her fists clench tightly at her side and she all but bares her teeth at the familiar stone face. "Man fuck you!"

"Get out of here before you draw too much attention."

She cackles and it sounds possessed. She reaches up and holds onto the sides of her head. "You dumb mother fucker! You just wait!"

"Leave now, Dimitri. Before someone calls the police."

"Fuck all these people," she screams through the rain, feeling the chill down to her bones. "Couldn't j-"

"Dammit Dimitri! Leave!"

Her words are silenced by the sob of her mother. She feels that in her heart, the snap of a bond that had been fragile for two years. Her face slackens to that of a helpless child seeking the care of her parents. But it is her father that has literally thrown her out, let her slide in the mud, her mother crying and begging her to leave. It is her parents that are disowning her. Dimitri watches with wide eyes as her father steps back into the house, the door closing and leaving her in the dark of the storm. Lightning flashes above her and she tilts her head up, lashes fluttering against the onslaught of rain.

She has no car.

She has no belongings.

Dmitri has nothing but a failing buzz and aching bones.

* * *

Her eyes watched in odd amusement as the band tightened, sending that vein thumping and she didn't even wince as the needle slid smoothly into her skin. She closed her eyes, feeling the fluid gush into her and instinctively curled her arm inwards, rolling her head around on her shoulders. Her har slid in a sticky mess across her shoulder, bits of dried mud flaking down into her cleavage. He watched with greedy eyes as he packed up his shit, leaving her a little token of courage on the nightstand of the hotel bed.

"Damn," she whispered.

"Told ya it was good shit," he untied the band and stuffed it into his pocket, her eyes opening. "When you gonna pay me?"

Her lids fluttered as she watched him stand and then she stood, following him to the door with a shrug of her shoulders. "Probably gonna have to be tomorrow. I work tonight so I get paid tonight."

He nodded a little. "Well you better fuckin pay me tomorrow, I can't let ya skip out again. Jeremy is gonna have my head soon enough."

Dimitri rolled her eyes, opening the door for him. She leaned against the side of it while he paused in the doorway. "Clair told me the tips were amazing so I should be able to pay back everything I owe. Tell Jeremy he'll even get a free lap dance if he just puts it off until tomorrow night."

"What about me," his eyes slid over her. "What does the messenger get?"

"He doesn't get punched in the face if he does as the pretty lady asks. Besides," she leaned towards him, batting those pretty little eyes at him. "I don't fuck gingers."

She slammed the door in his face, running her fingers through her hair as she _strutted _towards the bathroom. She shrugged out of her mud caked clothes and dropped them onto the floor, turning on the hot water. It was a cold night in D.C., cold water simply would not do tonight. She leaned across the counter, tilting her face into the mirror and examining her eyebrows. Dimitri was pretty for an eighteen year old girl. Her aunt has told her several times that the beauty wouldn't last but Dimitri wasn't hoping for it to last. People expected so many things when you were pretty. Most expected a cruel attitude, others expected you to be cheery and helpful. Men thought you were dumb and an easy fuck and women hated you, rooted into their jealousy too much to actually get to know you.

But Dimitri wasn't complaining, she liked looking this way.

But she wasn't a bitch about it.

Her eyes flickered down to her wrists and she pulled her hands from the counter, looking down at the spotless ceramic sink and then she flipped her hair over her shoulder, stepping into the shower. "Tonight will be different…" she whispered, ducking her face into the water.

It would.

This was the first job Dimitri had that didn't involve social gatherings of the conservative type.

She didn't know what to do when she was offered by her more-than-queer friend Christian. Christian was the cousin of her stoner friend, Clair. She also happened to work with Clair at a club in down town D.C. named Pulsed by You. Dimitri had seen the club on more than one occasion, noticed the crowds of men and women itching to get in and the lights drew a teenagers eyes like a fly to a pot roast.

But Dimitri had never thought of working there. But Christian has been waiting outside Clair's house, smoking a crushed cigarette and scratching at her ass like she didn't care. Christian was pretty, not beautiful, but pretty enough to get away with stuff like that to where no one thought it was gross and un-lady like. They just thought it was funny. Christian had sized her up, made her do a few twirls and told her to be in by five Thursday night.

And Dimitri was going. She couldn't pass this up.

"_Too bad ya can' sing," her tone was southern, but lilting and husky, just like Dimitri's voice only minus the accent. She caught the young woman's look of dismay and waved her cigarette at Dimitri. "Don' mean ta be cruel, honey, but your curse is a blessin in disguise," she took a long, thick, drag from her cigarette. "People like to take advantage of those that got talent. Ya can dance enough to get a point across; if anyone heard that voice I'd lose ya."_

Christian was a bad role model for a girl like Dimitri, who still looked up to people like her, who was still young enough to think Christian was living the best life. In reality, she was nothing but a drug addict with a pretty voice. Don't forget the killer body, but that was beside the point.

The cold air hit Dimitri like a brick wall but she just brushed it off. Her body was tingling all over from the heat of the shower and the drug taking root in her system. It was making her feel more alive than she had in awhile. Fuck her parents; she could do this on her own. She could _live on her own_. The idea was making her giddy and she began to do her hair and makeup.

She wandered what the inside of Pulsed by You looked like. The windows were always covered in purple velvet, lights pulsing behind the cover of night. Was it as magnificent as she imagined it to be? Probably not, but it was still worth a shot to get her hopes up. They couldn't fall any lower than her father had pushed them. She wandered what they were doing now, after having thrown her out earlier in the day. The sky was still a thick black because of the storm clouds but the rain had disappeared if only for a moment.

After she was prettied up in the face, Dimitri walked over to the outfit Christian had ordered her to wear under a trench coat. It was flashy, she knew that much, but she couldn't deny that she was absolutely in love with it. Black. Lots of black. A single corset, the fringes of it modeled after peacock feathers and the skirt was short, probably an inch past her waist, but the feathers pouring from it were simply stunning. The boots came to her knees over a plain black garter that she slid into easily. The outfit was tight, sort of, but she adjusted it enough in the mirror that it would be comfortable for a few hours, then she would need to readjust it. She turned in the mirror in the bathroom a few times, plain face trained on her hands as they tugged the feathers covering her bum downwards, trying to get them from revealing too much. The idea was probably to show a lot but she didn't like that. Not when she had to ride the bus there anyway.

Her parents would never allow her to have her car again, not unless she got clean and started acting like the daughter they wanted her to be.

No. Dimitri didn't need that car, she didn't need them. She would be turning nineteen in three days, she would go then and get what she could from her room. After that, Dimitri was done with them. Completely.

Dimitri sighed and looked in the mirror, brow scrunched as she scrutinized her own job on her makeup. She leaned forward, running the tip of her pointer finger across her bottom lip to haphazardly blot it. She poked at her lashes, trying to pick a clump apart, and it flaked off into her eye.

"Dammit," she muttered, trying to blink it away.

As the stinging cleared she shook her head and looked back to the mirror, making sure she got it out.

And everything was blue.

Her pupil, her iris…everything was blue.

Dimitri screamed and stumbled back from the mirror, blinking, trying to get the color to leave. After a few blinks, it was gone and her heart was still racing.

She stared at her reflection for a long moment, waiting for the blue to come back, but nothing. She swallowed thickly and pushed out of the bathroom, grabbing her coat and blaming it all on the drugs.

* * *

This is where Dimitri belongs.

Her hips sway to the music, all eyes on her and the feathers dusting across the tops of her breasts. She feels so God damn alive now that she is out, in a place where she is welcomed with open arms. The mens fingers ghost across the backs of her thighs, a few women stuff dollar bills in the cleavage of her dress. But this isn't a strip club, and yet Dimitri can't find herself reminding the intoxicated brunette that just won't get her hands off of Dimitri.

Dimitri does not swing in any other way but dick, but she doesn't care what this woman is doing right now as long as the money keeps coming. She feels the brunettes breasts press against her back and rotates her hips into her crotch, smelling the heavy waft of alcohol on her breath. She'll do whatever it takes, so long as she has drugs in her system. And the pain doesn't come. The pain doesn't cripple her like it usually does.

Her eyes flutter around the lights spinning above her, understanding how some people can have seizures and then she rolls her head around on her shoulders. Finally her eyes meet the ones that have been staring at her from the bar. They are bright, almost fucking neon, and she knows he is enjoying the show. He seems to be the only one paying attention to them. A sly smile comes onto her lips and she reaches her right hand back, cupping the back of the brunettes head and she twists her own to catch the strangers lips. No tongue, just a lot of lip play and Dimitri has her eyes locked with those at the bar.

He raises a glass to his lips, the cream settling on the tip of his tongue until he swallows it and leans back on the bar. Her lips smirk against the brunettes and she turns fully, hands flat against her chest as the drunk woman tries to wrap herself around Dimitri. Her hands are climbing upwards, trying to slide through the skirt but Dimitri pulls away only to see if he is still watching. He is and he has a strange spark in his eye, even at this distance.

Dimitri smiles and then turns to her new little charge, seeing some sort of desperate lust in her eye. "Come sweetheart, lets introduce a new friend, shall we?"

She nods furiously. "Y-Yes, call me Jullie."

"What a lovely name," Dimitri takes a hold of Jullie's hand and starts towards the bar.

His eyes hold her as she approaches him, her own never lingering even as the path is blocked continuously by sweaty drunks. When she reaches him, his eyes are locked on her cleavage where several bills are damp with her sweat. As he looks up he raises an eyebrow at the blue hue to her eyes but it is gone the moment she blinks. A trick of the light perhaps. A smirk plays on her lips and he finds one worming onto his own features.

"We have a room in the back, if anyone's in there I can kick em out, what do ya say?"

His eyes flicker around her face and he smiles fully, but it is dark, not welcoming. "Lead the way sweetheart."

She likes the sound of that on his tongue, pointed at her, and she curls a finger at him, beckoning him to follow. He does so freely, something golden peeking out of the inside of his coat but she isn't really paying attention, her head is swimming with the thought of his hands on her. His hands, to her, are perfect in every way. She wouldn't even mind him seeing the scars that riddled her body. Of course, this outfit doesn't do much to hide what's there. But the lighting distracts from that fact.

The room is empty it turns out and as soon as that door is closed, Dimitri asks him what he wants them to do while Jullie is trembling from the flurry of alcohol and the thought of this woman touching her. His eyes roam over the both of them, preferring Dimitri over the plain woman at her side.

"Do what you will until I order you to stop," he waves a hand and leans back against the door.

There's that blue again but she doesn't hesitate and pushes the brunette to the bed behind her. Jullie just waits for Dimitri, who straddles her hips like a robot, her face firm and calculating until she catches Jullie's lips with her own again. The fire shoots up both of their spines, he is narrowing his eyes at her twisting and rolling back. The zipper along the back of the corset creaks a few times but only he is paying attention, Dimitri is too caught up in trying to do everything right.

Dimitri is on fire, like seriously. It feels like they are close to the flames of a fire but the room is the same no matter how many times she opens her eyes to make sure. What is going on? She's never felt this way before and it's almost scaring her, but she is becoming more focused on the steady click of his boots behind her.

And then the fingers wrap around her throat. He throws Dimitri easily across the room, her not even effected. She stands easily, wide eyes watching as he picks Jullie up by her throat. Her eyes are wide and panicky, begging for mercy as her nails claw at his wrists. Dimitri is paralyzed, crouched at the knees. He cocks his head to the right slowly, a fascination entering the emerald irises and then with a simple flex of his fingers, Jullie is gone.

Dimitri's eyes widen as the snap echoes through the room and the brunette is on the ground, limp and lifeless. Her eyes meet that of the dead woman and then her vision is blocked by leather. When had he changed? He braces his right arm against her chest and forces her against the wall, the breath snatched from her lungs at the pressure.

"That's it," he murmured. "I remember you now."

"Wh-What," she chokes out, fear making her tear up.

He shakes his head slowly. "I actually forgot about you," he hums. "So many other things got in the way, I lost track of you but I knew you looked familiar when I saw you enter the bar. This outfit suits you, beautiful. A shame to be the holder of such beauty when it will only wilt now that I have gotten a hold of you."

"Let me go," she tries, but he just adds more pressure and she feels like her eyes are going to pop. "Please! I'll do whatever you say!"

He chuckles darkly. "That's good, sweetheart. Because you don't really have a choice."

He lets her drop and she gasps for breath as she kneels there, eyes closed, trying to rid herself of the feeling that they are going to just pop out. Her eyes flicker around the room, trying to find an escape, but there's no way out of it. There's just her, this creep and the lifeless body of a woman she didn't even know. Her eyes drift up his frame and his face is indifferent. That is dangerous. That is very, very dangerous.

"Now," he purrs. "I like you like this. Kneeling to your King…"


End file.
